


39

by xxenjoy



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bunker Fic, First Kiss, Fluff, Love Confessions, M/M, birthday fic, canon compliant up to 13x06, canon!verse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-24
Updated: 2018-01-24
Packaged: 2019-03-09 00:38:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,153
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13470003
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xxenjoy/pseuds/xxenjoy
Summary: They don't usually make a big deal about birthdays anymore, not that they ever really did, because they're always away from the bunker and someone is usually exhausted or bleeding, and there's just no point in making a big fuss about it at this point. Except that this year they actually have something to celebrate because Cas is back and they have Jack, and their most recent hunt wraps up nicely on the eve of Dean's 39th birthday.





	39

**Author's Note:**

> || Originally posted on [tumblr](http://dates-with-cas.tumblr.com/post/170082336370/39)

They don't usually make a big deal about birthdays anymore, not that they ever really did, because they're always away from the bunker and someone is usually exhausted or bleeding, and there's just no point in making a big fuss about it at this point. Except that this year they actually have something to celebrate because Cas is back and they have Jack, and their most recent hunt wraps up nicely on the eve of Dean's 39th birthday. He's been grumbling about it because he'll be forty next year - _forty, Sam_ \- but Sam and Cas go ahead with their plans to make a whole night of it, despite Dean's protests that he doesn't need anything other than his family and a couple of cold beers. 

It's early evening when they roll back into Kansas the following day, and Dean pulls the car over near the entrance to the bunker, just long enough for him and Cas to pile out, and then Sam takes off again with Jack to 'pick up supplies.' Dean and Cas head down the stairs, dumping their bags on the map table, as Cas natters away about checking Dean over to make sure he's not hurt. Dean assures him that he's fine, but he's barely rested his ass against the table in the library before Cas is on him because he never believes Dean when he says he's fine, which really, is fair because Dean almost never tells anyone - Cas, especially - when there's something actually wrong. They'd just worry too much. 

They hadn't bothered with minor injuries at the motel the night before because no one had been seriously hurt - Dean would argue that pulling a muscle in his thigh was bad enough, but by the time he woke up in the morning it was fine. It would be easy enough for Cas to just mojo everything back to normal, but lately, he's been doing his best to keep Cas from touching him directly, lest his body react _inconveniently_ especially considering all things Grace make him all warm and tingly - literally. Things have been different between the two of them since Cas came back, since _welcome home_ and Cas' story of The Empty; Cas has been gone before - gone back to Heaven or taken by the leviathans, but this time, this time is just different. For weeks before he came back, three words repeated on a loop in Dean's mind _Cas is gone, Cas is gone_ , pushing its way to the forefront of everything else, and then suddenly the phone call that changed everything, and here they are now. 

It's the only reason Dean gave in to the whole birthday thing in the first place; it's not really a party for him, it's to celebrate that Cas is back, and for once, he seems to just be Cas. _Dean's_ Cas; no secret alliances with Crowley, no angelic mind control, just Cas, and Dean had been so damn relieved to see him that first night that he very nearly didn't let him go. Everything was sunshine again, at least on the small scale; because Dean had his angel back, but then all the emotional shit started to bleed through. 

Dean's been good at hiding his feelings his whole life, and when he realized however many years ago how he really felt about his best friend, he pushed all of that down too, because he's a hunter and hunters don't get to have good things. Only, when Cas came back this time, he smashed straight through all of Dean's barriers, and that first night back at the bunker, once Sam was tucked away in his room, Cas came and found him in his sitting on his bed, head in his hands, and held him as Dean cried into his shoulder until overwhelmed and exhausted, he fell asleep fully clothed, Cas' legs tangled between his own. 

Since that day, he's been extra sensitive to every touch, every look between the two of them, like the love he feels in his heart is a volcano threatening to erupt, so he brushes Cas off when he wants to check Dean over, and crosses his arms over his chest. 

Cas, of course, has his own agenda, and it rarely reflects Dean's plans. His hands are soft, despite everything, and Dean usually passes it off as some angel thing, but right now it's making his position incredibly difficult because all he wants to do is turn his head and press kisses into Cas' palms, though he's learned from experience that interrupting Cas when he's mother henning only ever ends badly for him, so he pushes the thoughts down as far as they will go and focuses on his face instead, the way Cas' lips purse when he's annoyed, how his eyes narrow further when Dean tries to shift out of his touch. If he focuses on the small things, it makes it a lot easier to ignore the way Cas' hand rests on his thigh, just a little too high or the way his body presses between Dean's legs when he leans in. 

Once he's satisfied that the rest of Dean's body is in one piece, Cas moves up to his head, running his fingers through Dean's hair to feel for bumps - Dean's eyes flutter shut at the sensation, and he rests his hands on either side of his thighs, gripping the edge of the table. It's all completely unnecessary, and a little illogical because the issue here is Cas touching him, and really, he could just press his fingers to his temples and _poof, all ailments cured_ , but Dean is finding it increasingly difficult to turn Cas down when he wants to make sure he's okay; as much as he pretends to fight it, they both know it's a losing battle from the start. 

Cas tips his jaw up, running his fingers down the column of his neck, and Dean can feel a moan bubbling up from his chest. He swallows hard, before grabbing Cas' wrist and pushing him off; was aim was for jokey and playful, but when he says, "that's enough," it comes out soft and wanting, and he has to clear his throat and push himself up, pushing Cas away from him in the process to keep from following that up with a kiss, because he knows it won't stop there, and he doesn't need Sam coming home to find him and Cas banging on the library table - although it would serve him right for teasing him about their _profound bond_ for nearly a decade. 

Cas is left staring at him, just a few feet away, and Dean's instinct is to cross the space between them and kiss him stupid, but there's a clattering overhead that signals Sam and Jack's return, and Dean just shuts his eyes in frustration with himself. 

If Sam notices the awkward way Cas shuffles out of the library as he thuds down the stairs, he doesn't say anything, but he sends Jack off to help him get the living room ready - the living room being a spare bedroom they set up with a couple of armchairs and a loveseat. Jack goes off after him obediently and Dean follows Sam into the kitchen, flopping down at the table as Sam unpacks all the groceries.

"What's on the menu?" Dean asks, peering around to see what Sam bought.

"Burgers," Sam says dismissively, and Dean scowls at him, "Dean, go relax. Go put your stuff away and have a shower, I got this."

"Yeah, okay," he sighs, pushing him up from the table. He does need a shower, and probably some clean clothes; Sam had packed a spare set, but Dean had been in too much of a rush to get out there, and he's been stuck switching between two outfits for the last three days so he's a little grungy.

\- - - - -

He's clean and fresh when Sam calls them up for dinner and Dean walks in to the library to find that Sam and his minions have put up streamers and blown up balloons; there's even a banner hanging over the stairs that reads _Happy Birthday_ , and as much as Dean wants to berate his brother for it, because that's what he does, he finds himself pulling him close instead, hugging him and taking in the room over Sam's shoulder.

Cas is smiling softly at him the entire time, despite the awkwardness earlier, and when they sit down around the table, he pulls out the seat next to Dean's. They sit around the table for hours, eating and chatting and when Sam brings out pie after dinner, Dean doesn't think he's ever loved him more. Cas insists that he doesn't need pie, but Dean just looks at him until he grabs the fork from Dean's hand and takes a bit, which, on second thought, was not very well planned out on Dean's end because he makes a show of it, and Dean has to think about ghouls and shifters and spiders to keep his body under control. 

After dinner, they play cards while Cas cleans up, much to Dean's disappointment, though Cas is fairly insistent on not leaving the mess until the morning. They go for rummy because it's the easiest game to explain to Jack on short notice, and he picks it up quickly, beating the crap out of Sam and Dean the first three games they play. When Cas returns, he watches with interest and smiles at Jack as the brothers lose miserably yet again. 

They head downstairs shortly after because Dean's bitter about being beaten by a kid, and then when Cas reminds him gently that he's half-angel Dean just snorts.

"Which is why you shouldn't play with celestial beings."

Behind him, Sam makes a spluttering sound, and Dean just barely holds back the urge to stop dead in front of him and make Sam crash into him. He pushes the door to the living room open and Sam grabs the remotes from the TV stand, plopping down in one of the armchairs. Dean passes him, flopping onto one side of the loveseat, and when Cas looks at him, he shrugs, lifting the corner of his mouth in a half-smile. Cas takes it for what it is, settling down on the opposite side, though the way Dean sprawls, they're practically touching from the get-go. 

Naturally, with Sam in charge of the controls, they end up watching Two Weeks Notice because Dean was stupid enough to tell him he wasn't picky about what they watched. He'll never admit to it, but when he's alone and has free run of the bunker, he sits in his room and watches sappy romcoms, where no one can bug him about it. He even pays for a second Netflix account just so Sam won't find out. Sometimes when he looks over at Cas, he wonders if there's ever a chance that he, that _they_ could ever have even a fraction of what they have in the movies. 

It's not unrealistic; they have the bunker now, and they have their little family, even if Mom's still missing and one of them is a nephilim who can't control his powers, but still - they're doing better than they were a few years back. While Dean's lost in thought, Cas shifts next to him, and Dean subconsciously throws his feet up on Cas' lap, slumping down in his corner of the couch. If Sam or Jack notice, neither of them say a word about it, even though by the time the movie is over, Cas has shifted toward the centre of the couch and Dean's feet are propped up on the arm of the loveseat. 

It's that whole touching thing again, but he doesn't fully realize what he's doing until the credits roll and Sam stretches so hard he blocks the TV. He makes a big deal of getting up and Dean retracts his legs quickly, swinging them back over the front of the couch and resting on his knees. Cas gets up, but he sits back down on the arm of the loveseat, watching Sam and Jack. 

"I'm gonna call it," Sam mutters, turning off the TV. "'Night guys, happy birthday, Dean."

"Thanks, Sammy."

Jack follows shortly after, bidding them both goodnight and heading off to his room to do whatever it is that he does while everyone else is asleep, which leaves Dean and Cas alone again, and Cas is shifting awkwardly like he doesn't know what to do with himself.

"Somethin' wrong?" Dean asks, and Cas rises to his feet like Dean's question is all he was waiting for. 

"Do you remember when we used to sit in your room and watch movies?"

"You mean my old westerns?"

"Yes, with the cowboys."

"What about 'em?"

"Would you want to do that tonight?"

Dean's heart races because this is their thing; they've sat in his room watching westerns countless time, but not since Cas came back, not since this new thing. There was one night after the case in Dodge City, but Sam and Jack were there for that too, and it was the middle of the day, not the night of his birthday when they're going to be alone in his room, and after he very nearly kissed Cas already today. It doesn't help that the way Cas is asking, he makes it sound like a date, and considering the couple of months they've had, that might actually be what he's aiming for. 

He's torn because it's a terrible idea to be alone with Cas right now, and he was planning on spending the rest of his night working out some of the sexual tension, but he wants to; more than anything, he wants to curl up with Cas and watch his favourite movies. Nevertheless, he agrees, because he's past the point of caring all that much tonight; he's been pushing his boundaries all day, so why the fuck not?

"Yeah, Cas, c'mon."

Half an hour later finds him leaning up against the headboard with Cas pressed up against his side. He can't focus because he knows these movies inside and out, but what he's not used to is the mental image of Cas in a cowboy hat and boots and nothing else that takes over everything else. He tries to keep his thoughts in check, because the downside to having an angel as a best friend is that he's basically able to tell what Dean is thinking literally always, and Dean doesn't need Cas knowing exactly what he does to him. The thought of it alone is one step short or traumatizing, and the fear of Cas finding out is enough for him to push it out of his head. 

Focusing instead on the warmth of Cas' body against him, and the soft rise and fall of his chest, Dean shuts his eyes. He drops his head onto Cas' shoulder and shifts against the pillows, crossing his arms over his stomach. 

"Dean?" Cas asks softly. 

"I'm good, Cas." He can hear the soft huff of breath and the faint disbelief in Cas' voice as he mumbles an okay, but it's the last thing he remembers before falling asleep. 

When he wakes up, it's to hot breath on his neck. Dean's on his side curled up around his pillow, and he can feel the warmth of Cas pressed up against him. He remembers Cas saying something to Jack about him being an angry sleeper, like a bear, which is true, but only halfway; when he's on the road, sleeping in lumpy motel beds, he sleeps lightly - and angrily - ready to defend himself and Sam from who- and whatever might threaten them, but when he's at home, it's a whole other story. When he's home, in his own bed with the whole of the bunker and its defences surrounding him, and - more often than not, lately - Cas curled up next to him, asleep or waiting patiently for Dean to wake up, he's calm and relaxed. 

Thinking he's still asleep, Cas moves to get off the bed, but Dean rolls over and stops him, looking up blearily at him. 

"Where're you going?"

"I wanted to let you rest."

"You know I sleep better with you," Dean mumbles, and the bed dips down next to him again. Cas' fingers card through his hair and Dean shuts his eyes. 

"I'm only going upstairs to finish tidying up," Cas responds, "I'll come back." Dean's lips twitch up at the corners despite himself, and Cas pushes himself up off the bed. "At least try to sleep?" he asks, but Dean shakes his head, following Cas to the door. 

"I can help? It'll go faster."

"Dean," Cas chides softly. He looks up at him and pauses like he can read on Dean's face the real reason for stalling, or maybe he can just hear him. Dean tries not to think about it, tries to focus on anything but how badly he wants to fall asleep next to Cas tonight of all nights. He knows Cas doesn't listen to his thoughts unless he knows they're specifically for him to hear, but Dean figures it's probably like eavesdropping; sometimes it just happens, even if you don't mean to. 

Cas' eyes crinkle at the corners and Dean realizes that he sucks at not thinking about Cas, but when Cas' hand rests on his hip, his fingers just brushing under the hem of his shirt, Dean finds he doesn't really care that much. 

"Maybe we'll save the dishes for the morning," Cas grins, "or we can leave them for Sam. It is your birthday, after all."

"Sounds good to me," Dean smirks. Cas huffs a soft laugh, looking down at his feet before meeting Dean's gaze again.

"There's just... one more thing," he says slowly, but Dean just shakes his head. 

"Cas, no. C'mon, you've already done too much, I can't ask for anything else. Besides," he adds, glancing down at his watch, "my birthday's over anyway."

"Just this one thing," Cas assures him, "and we can go to sleep."

Dean wants to argue, to tell Cas that it's too much, and all he wants - literally the _only thing_ \- is for Cas to come and lay down next to him so they can go to bed. He wants to, and he thinks about it, but then Cas is stepping up into his space sliding one hand over his cheek as the one on his hip moves to curl into the front of his shirt. 

Dean forgets how to breathe for a second and then Cas' lips press against his own, and his whole body shuts down. He wants to hold him, wants to pull him close and run his fingers through his hair and- his eyes drop shut as Cas draws back. Cas is still in his space, his hand sliding down Dean's sides, and Dean wants to be able to express just how much Cas means to him, how he needs this to be real, but all that comes out is,

"Don't do that if you don't mean it," and his voice wavers. 

"I mean it," Cas breathes, pressing in closer so Dean can feel the gentle puff of his breath on his cheeks, "I've been trying to tell you-" he sighs,"you don't listen very well."

"I'm listening now," Dean whispers, curling his fingers around the lapels of Cas' coat and pulling him right up against him. He kisses Cas more roughly than he means to, pushing him up against the door frame, and letting all of his pent-up emotion flow through the kiss. Cas is gentler, evening the balance as he coils his arms around Dean's torso, smoothing his hand up his spine. 

When he runs out of breath, Dean breaks the kiss, but he doesn't pull away, pressing his forehead against Cas', "stay" he whispers, and he can't bring himself to say the rest of it out loud, but he thinks as hard as he can _don't leave me again_ , and Cas whispers against his lips, 

"I won't." He rubs his thumb over Dean's cheek, tilting so his nose presses against Dean's cheek and his lips brush against Dean's. Dean responds immediately, fitting his mouth against Cas' and dragging their lips against each other. He tries to keep it slower this time because he doesn't want to push too hard and make a mistake, but then Cas reaches, pushing the door shut without breaking away and _God_ , Dean just loves him so much. Cas smiles against his mouth and heat rises to Dean's cheeks with the realization that Cas probably heard that. 

"I know," Cas mumbles, "I love you, too." Dean's heart races and he can't speak because this is too much; Cas is an angel and how could he- they've been toeing this line for years now, but he's never considered that Cas could really love him and now he's just standing here-

"Stop worrying," Cas soothes, kissing him chastely. Dean nods mutely, dropping his hands to his sides as Cas shrugs the trenchcoat off his shoulders. Dean's lips quirk up at the corners and Cas just gives him a look as Dean steps forward, wrapping his hands around his waist. 

He takes a step back, and Cas follows him to the edge of the bed, standing while Dean drops onto the mattress. He looks up at Cas, running his hands up his forearms and pushing the suit jacket back over his shoulders. Cas pulls his hands away, moving to loosen his tie, but Dean stops him. He grabs his hand then pauses, unsure of what he was planning on doing or saying, and rubs his thumb against Cas' palm. 

"Let me?" he asks, and Cas nods lightly.

They've done this before, a dozen times or so, but never together; if Cas takes the time to undress himself properly, he usually does it quickly, slipping into whatever pyjamas Dean lends him before Dean can bring himself to look. Tonight is different, and Dean wants to do it himself, he wants to touch him, wants to feel him unhindered by all that fabric.

He loosens Cas' tie and pulls it around his neck, setting it aside on the bed before tugging his shirt out of his pants and unbuttoning it from the bottom up. His heart is racing because this is everything he's wanted, everything he's pretended not to want, for the last ten years. Cas' fingers slip through his hair as Dean's hands press up under the thin cotton, running over his bare skin. 

Dean slides his hands around, tugging Cas close to him, "c'mere," he breathes, and as Cas climbs onto the bed, straddling his lap, Dean tugs his shirt over his head, ignoring the rest of the buttons. Cas is quick to reciprocate, tugging Dean's t-shirt off and discarding it back behind him. 

Dean falls back against the bed, and Cas goes with him, kissing him deeply as Dean runs his hands up his back and over his shoulders because he _can_ , and once he realizes that, once it fully sinks in, he doesn't stop. 

It ends up taking them ages to finish getting ready for bed, because Dean doesn't want to stop touching him, not for five seconds, and Cas doesn't try to stop him. When they're finally in bed with the lights out, Cas curls up against his back, and Dean stares out into the darkness of the room, focusing on the heat of Cas' skin against his own, and wondering how, knowing what he knows now, how it took them so long to get to this point. 

He remembers nights in Purgatory, worn too thin and too on edge to sleep, but then Cas would come and sit with him, pull him into his arms and he'd be asleep in seconds; he'd been oblivious at that point, still trying to convince himself that this was just friendship, made more pronounced by the fact that Cas was the angel who literally pulled him out of hell. It's obvious to him now, it has been for some time now, that this is so, so much more. 

"Hey, Cas?" he mumbles into the darkness, surprising even himself.

"Yeah?"

"I love you, too. You know that, right?"

There's a small puff of breath on the back of his neck, and he can feel Cas smile as he kisses his shoulder, "yes, Dean."

Dean shifts under the blankets, turning to face Cas and pressing a soft kiss to his lips before ducking his head under Cas' chin and pressing his cheek to his chest. Cas just wraps his arms around him a little tighter and pulls the blankets up over Dean's bare shoulders. 

"Night Cas," he hums, murmuring into his skin. 

Cas huffs a laugh, kissing the top of his head as he shuts his eyes, "goodnight, Dean. Happy birthday."


End file.
